The Brontosaurus Theory

Driving down the highway

Memories fly by

Where the lake rolls to the shore

I can’t believe my eyes.

 

May the sun shine on your shoulder

May it always keep you warm

May the Earth’s purple haze surround you

And comfort your soul.

 

When I was a young boy

I rode my bike each day

Through the orchards and the fields

I was a child at play.

 

Was it a dream, I don’t know.

Guess I must have been there.

‘Cause I’m in those photographs

Hanging by the hallway mirror.

 

Rolling down the highway

Through the corn fields and plowed land.

I see my life before me

So hard to understand.